


Siuil A Run

by Daerwyn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Irish, fiddle - Freeform, violin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't know she was Irish. He didn't even know her name. But he heard her play and Merlin, it reminded him of home. Of his Mam and Pap, the farm, Ireland. And when she played, she'd dance around the room and lose herself in the music. She was... well, she was perfect. And her dance - Oh, Merlin, her dance. Mam always said he had to marry an Irish lass, and she was that lass. He could feel it. </p><p>After the war with Voldemort is at an end, the world is back to revolving, and the students are back at Hogwarts. Seamus Finnigan notices the subdued changes in the people he used to know and decides the best way to forget the war and sorrow is to throw a quite large party that he's sure breaks about fifty school rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Siuil A Run

He didn't know she was Irish. He didn't even know her name. But he heard her play and Merlin, it reminded him of home. Of his Mam and Pap, the farm, Ireland. And when she played, she'd dance around the room and lose herself in the music. She was... well, she was perfect. And her dance - Oh, Merlin, her dance. Mam always said he had to marry an Irish lass, and she was that lass. He could feel it.

It had all started innocently enough. The First Years were sorted and the feast began, Headmistress McGonnagall giving the annual speech over what areas were forbidden. This year the random draw seemed to dictate the fifth floor, and the forest, as always. The grounds after dark were also forbidden, and any student wishing to travel to the grounds had to be accompanied by a witch or wizard of age.

No one protested. It was probably the first year that had happened. Seamus looked at his fellow Gryffindors and saw them avoiding each other's eyes as though they had all walked in on each other starkers. They were all avoiding looking at the empty benches. The spots where friends once sat. 

Seamus was seated beside a particular heavy spot, one he didn't look at, nor didn't ignore. Lavender Brown. Her death had been a hard blow to him. While the girl wasn't particularly well liked, they got along well enough. Bubbly, outgoing, she wasn't afraid to ask Seamus a question, no matter how embarrasing or personal. She was the epitome of every day bravery. None of that saving the world stuff Potter had, but close enough. She could look a man in the eye and question his manhood without the bat of an eyelash. Merlin, she was a good lass. 

The Patil twins were affected by it, too, and Dean and Neville - though Neville didn't know her that well, Seamus believed. He was sort of the quiet bloke that spent his time in the Herbology classroom. Romilda Vane, too. Dorm mates and all that.

The Golden Trio, though... They were a curious bunch. Seamus watched them in the sea of mourners and couldn't find anything particularly unsettling. They seemed... not ignorant. Numb. Like all the guilt and blame was on them - on Potter. Merlin, every one fought in the war. Everyone had that guilt of "What if I had just been to the left a step? He or she wouldn't have been hit." Survivors guilt, the grief counselors had called it. 

Seamus had a lot of it. All the returning students that had suffered through the war, or who had lost someone in the war, were required to go to the grief counselors appointed by the Ministry. He had an appointment scheduled tomorrow just after breakfast. 

But Seamus wanted to grief counsel himself - the school. A bash. An "I survived, thank fecking Merlin" bash. Everyone would be invited, even the Slytherins, and there'd be alcohol and music and, Merlin, what else? He could probably convince the elves to deliver some food there. That wouldn't be too hard - maybe get a Ravenclaw to do it so that they say just the right thing to convince them. Or a Slytherin, but the Slytherin would probably want something in return. 

Ravenclaw was best. Almost immediately, Seamus's head turned in the direction of Luna Lovegood. The elves liked her. Perfect. Tonight? No, no time. Saturday. No classes, and no classes the next day. It was perfect. 

"Hey, Seamus," a voice said suddenly. The Irishman glanced over to see Dean, who looked a tad apprehensive. "You wouldn't happen to have spotted Ginny, yet, have you?"

Seamus started and glanced down the Gryffindor table. No fiesty red head in sight. Odd. Weasley didn't seem too bothered by it, though, and was talking to the other two Golden Trio members quietly, chewing his food and swallowing before he responded to whatever Granger said. He looked towards the other tables as well, before shaking his head. "Can't say I have, mate."

"She was on the train," Dean continued. He picked up his pumpkin juice and paused before drinking from it, looking it over for poisons. "I can't imagine she'd skip the feast."

"Maybe she went down to the kitchens?" Seamus shrugged, though he would admit it wasn't like the girl. Even in the throes of grief, she braved the world. That was Gin's bravery. Her skipping the feast - especially with all the first years and the announcements - was unlike her so much that Seamus shared a brief concerned glance with Neville. He had been oddly silent, as well, rolling his shoulder to symbolize he didn't know either.

"We should look for her."

"After the feast," Pavarti stated simply. 


End file.
